


I've Got High Hopes For This

by speakgreektome (epicionly)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Isa Wants No Part In This, KH Secret Santa, M/M, Misunderstandings, Overthinking, Shoujo Cliche Me Up, liverpepper au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 06:09:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5528927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epicionly/pseuds/speakgreektome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Roxas starts acting really weird, Axel, in a stunning turn of irony for someone so knowledgeable about human nature, misunderstands why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got High Hopes For This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zinniapetals](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinniapetals/gifts).



> Secret santa gift for tumblr user [zinniapetals](http://zinniapetals.tumblr.com). Cheers, and Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!
> 
> Credits to [Jay](http://yourhandiheld.tumblr.com) whose [AU](http://liverpepper.tumblr.com) I'm stealing again for my own nefarious purposes (IT'S TOO HARD TO MAKE UP AN AU), and also who was like "basically make axel go no homo" when I asked her for advice on how this fic should go. THE NO HOMO SECTION IS HERS CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE 10/10

It starts normally enough, actually. The catalyst for all of this, Axel means. The whole realization that maybe hey, he wants to become more than just friends with Roxas comes a bit way after.

It’s an average day, average anything. Roxas is dressed in some bizarre obscure meme shirt that half-offends Axel's aesthetic sensibilities and half-impresses him, and has just finished up skateboarding down the ramp with a kind of concentrated artistry that couch potatoes like Axel can only dream about. The little kids are definitely super impressed; they're clustered around him by the time Axel comes back with the ice cream, and Roxas looks genuinely flustered with the attention.

Axel sidles in closer. One of them, a small looking girl with appropriate helmet and pads on her elbows and knees takes one look at him, and then starts visibly. Her eyes widen as she steps closer, reaching out and tugging on his cardigan. "Is that your _real_ hair?"  
  
"Very real," he says with as much whispered solemnity as she gave him. She casts her eyes at her feet, and then back up at him. The shy types really tend to like him, though as to why, Axel really can't say. Probably the Cool Guy charm. "You wanna feel?"  
  
She looks like she wants to, but something holds her back when she blurts out, "How come it's red?"  
  
"Well," Axel replies, "when two people love each other very much, sometimes it’s so strong that their baby's hair demonstrates the red hot passion."  
  
"You're lying," the girl says, though she doesn't really sound sure. Man, kids are sure cute.  
  
"He's a liar," Roxas confirms, hand out for the ice cream, which, oh, Axel sees how it is. The little girl makes a betrayed face at Axel, which. Ouch.  
  
"You're hurting my street cred," Axel says, even if he is full of well-intentioned bullshit, and hands one to Roxas, and the second one to the little girl who looks longingly up at the Sea-Salt ice cream. She looks happy.

“You have street cred?” Roxas asks, with a growing grin on his face. Compared to the grunting, scowling mood he was carrying around earlier, it's definitely a nice change of pace.

"I know you only love me for my munny,” Axel says mournfully, "but look, Hot Topic only pays so much."  
  
Roxas bursts out into laughter. He spent about a week on radio silence and out of contact until today, and even then, the first hour was _tense_.

They're best friends; spend almost all of their time sort of wrapped up in each other's free time despite the two year age difference, so Axel's definitely missed him something fierce because he’d gotten super used to waking up every morning with a barrage of texts about any occasion--that, and just hanging chill in his own room, Roxas thumbing through old romance novels, or anywhere else in town acting like actual teenagers.

Axel's just glad it looks like everything's fine again.

"It's good to see you smile," Axel tells him,which is as direct as Axel is going to get about it. Pretty direct already, but something about Roxas brings out Axel's desire to just be forthright with him. "I was starting to think you had a problem with _me_."

It's a throwaway comment; a joke.

"What?" Roxas demands, looking too startled. "No, nothing's wrong. I don't have a problem with you." He sounds almost defensive, which touches Axel as much as it makes him pause.

"Be still my beating heart," Axel replies, wiggling his eyebrows at him.

Roxas usually turns a huge shade of red with embarrassment or rolls his eyes when Axel teases him. This time though, his face twists into something completely opposite. Everything is wiped straight off his face, and is replaced by a terse, "Sure."  
  
"Not quite feeling the love, huh?" Axel says, raising an eyebrow, more than a combination of amused and concerned. 

Instead of working, all it does is make Roxas's eyebrows furrow. "Uh," he says, stilted. He looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here. "Well, obviously not." Roxas is trying to joke, but his tone comes off a little higher-pitched.

Axel tries not to let the fact that it's awkward bother him, or how evident it is that Roxas is hiding something. He's worked with less before; the first time they met and all with Roxas scowling at a note making fun of his name, and how Axel walked into the conversation as "Lea", and walked out an "Axel" with a new friend.

He settles beside him on the railing. When Roxas doesn't respond, he nudges him with his shoulder. "Good to hear, buddy," he says jovially, with a grin, and watches as the tension in Roxas's shoulders relaxes and the grin gets mirrored. Axel would ask, but--well. Everyone's got a few secrets they want to keep.  
  
"Are you dating?" the girl asks, interrupting the moment. Out of all the others, she's the only one left. Roxas jumps, like he's forgotten she was there.  
  
"Not at all," Axel tells the little kid. "But as you know, I hear _this_ guy is pretty popular." He swings a friendly arm over Roxas's shoulder like he does all the time--which is why it surprises him when Roxas, for his part, stiffens.

Fact is, Axel's actually not a handsy guy, but he's used to Roxas being pretty tactile. Growing up with a family that ended up sort of legs tangled up on the couch, tugging on arms to get to places faster, hands on shoulders, elbows, it'd be hard for Roxas not to be. It also makes it hard for Axel, who's actually now recently gotten into the habit of reciprocating, because now he pauses, trying to figure this out.

Axel by default is very perceptive of when warning signals go for personal boundaries, and Roxas's body language is screaming _Don't_. He lets go as soon as his mind processes it.

It's like Roxas can't get away from him fast enough. He tears himself from the railing out of Axel's reach parameter fast enough that he almost stumbles. He looks as though he's been burned. His shoulders bunch up when he turns on his heel, and he's looking at Axel with a wariness that Axel really doesn't understand.

"I do something wrong?" Axel asks, blinking. Roxas is giving  _Axel_ stress just looking at him. He tries to rewind his brain to figure out what happened, and honestly, jumping around the hoops to figure out what is a bit too much work.  
  
"What?" Roxas’s face looks pinched. He scowls, in the way that he does when he's being stubborn, and presses his lips together. He's not looking at Axel anymore. “What are you talking about? Everything’s fine. You didn't do anything.”  
  
And Axel doesn't have a heart. "You sure? Because-”  
  
"I'm good," Roxas says, a little louder. At this point, he's is already grabbing his board, muttering something about showing their little audience a few more tricks before Axel can react.   
  
It’s a little weird--little confusing? But Axel rolls with it. It's a small thing, whatever.  
  
\--

Of course, Roxas is completely fine during texting. Roxas sends him manips of memes and badly done hairdye jobs just to spite him, as well as the occassional Hot Topic mess joke--maybe even more than usual as if to prove a point. Axel doesn't really think twice about it except to fire a text saying, _RIP ME exam hell,_ combined with a lot of teary-eyed emojis.

Roxas sends him back [an image](http://36.media.tumblr.com/dc4ffcf341b7b0615204428adad005a5/tumblr_moojq2WFsi1r1o9x9o2_400.png) with _ur final form gl_

Axel's personally no stranger to being too busy to text, what with evaluations coming up and Isa being too exasperated to share his notes so Axel  _has_ to, in fact, move the pen across the back of a flyer he had on him to take stuff down shorthand during the reviews. So that honestly doesn't bother him.

But then the thing that happens at the skateboard park happens again even after the exam period. Actually, multiple times across several weeks until it leads into a month-long something. It varies, actually, in between the weird faux-pas when they hang out when Roxas just _reacts_ , and the texting radio silence.

It's starting to bother Axel, who, honestly, feels like there is something he's not quite getting.  
  
\--

See, Axel usually is a Cool Guy. People like having him around. They think he actually adds zest and flavor to a conversation, and that his delivery of snarky comments is charming. Axel won’t deny the charisma thing is something useful that developed out of eventual laziness and waking up one day with a eureka-like understanding of the human psyche, but being given some form of respect is definitely a swell change from what he used to be called the first thirteen-cum-fifteen years of his life. Nothing gets him down anymore. He is Cool and Chill.  
  
Isa likes to think otherwise sometimes. He is Wrong.  
  
“It’s not like I _want_ to be pissed off when I don’t even understand it,” Axel protests. “It’s the opposite of my image.”  
  
“Your ego is insufferable, but sadly not unusual,” Isa says, in the same clipped tones he used when he told Axel to stop moping around just because Roxas wasn’t texting him back. Axel may or may not have taken offense to that, because even _he_ isn’t that easy. Really.  
  
“Aww,” Axel coos, because two can play at assholes. “Are you in a bad mood?”  
  
“You appear unannounced and expect me to feed you as well as explain to you what it is you feel,” Isa says. “This has happened sixteen times in the past month. I am steadily running out of food and patience.”  
  
Axel has no idea what he’s talking about. He is an independent young man who is only concerned by the fact that Isa only ever hangs out at the library and stays at home. “That hurts. I know you’ve got rights as the First Best Friend, but you’re cramping my style here.”  
  
Isa casts a withering look at Axel’s red shoes, black leather pants and the black shirt under the long black cardigan, and then at his face.  
  
“That’s _rude_ ,” Axel gushes appropriately at the unspoken insult, subtly pressing on the camera button on his phone to check if his eyeliner’s smudged or something like that. It’s not. He takes a second to admire the artistry of the lower wings before he slips his phone back into his pocket. “You’re lucky you’re one of my favourites, honestly.”  
  
“A fact I lament daily,” Isa says wryly, and tosses him a wrapped sandwich from his fridge as an apology.  
  
Axel catches it in one hand from where he’s leaning on the back two legs of the kitchen chair—calves, _not_ feet on the table, Christ, Isa, of course he knows how unsanitary it is otherwise. “You love me,” he says, letting a sly grin spread on his face that Isa rolls his eyes at. “You have to; I look too good.” Vanity, thy name is Axel.  
  
Isa rests his hip against the counter, staring at Axel steadily. “Go get a hobby that isn’t crashing my house whenever he’s ignoring you,” he says, enunciating it, but his tone is nicer. “I’ll even ask please.”  
  
“I thought we were friends,” Axel protests, pretending not to hear the other part, because 1: he _obviously_ has other interests besides hanging out with Roxas and Isa knows it, and 2: would it have killed Isa to keep faking sympathy?, and 3: he’s here because he’s missed Isa, honest. He tears the saran wrap and digs his teeth into bread and combination of sausage and lettuce and tomatoes. “This is good.”  
  
“I’m home!” they hear from the front door.  
  
“Kitchen!” Axel yells back, because Isa never communicates properly with his kid brother anyway. Someone has to. He likes to think Demyx grew up well-adjusted because of Axel’s influence.  
  
Demyx shoves his excited face not three seconds later after he’s likely kicked his shoes off at the doorway. “Heeeeey!” Suddenly, the ecstatic expression drops off his face when his eyes slide to the half-eaten sandwich in Axel’s hands. “Oh. That’s mine.”

Axel shoots Isa a dirty look.  
  
“You should listen to my advice,” Isa says, because he’s _petty._ He’s so lucky Axel is a tolerant saint.  
  
“Sorry,” Axel says, turning back to Demyx. “I’ll make it up to you. How’s some In-N-Out tomorrow sound?”  
  
Demyx’s expression still looks sullen, but he nods, accepting another sandwich from his brother. It looks _exactly_ the same as the one in Axel’s hands. Fucking Isa, honestly. “Okay.”  
  
“How was today?” Axel asks, because he feels a little bad, even though it was all Isa’s fault. Damage control. “You look like you had fun.”  
  
And Demyx does. His clothes are smattered in dirt and mud, and there are stains all over them: a combination of paint and stuff that won’t ever come off in the wash. His cheek is smudged in some kind of surrealism, and the blond of his hair looks a wild combination of watered down colours.  
  
At the question, Demyx’s face lights up. “Yeah, it was! We had a watergun fight. Roxas was on my team, so we almost managed to corner Sora. We got everyone else, too!”  
  
Axel can feel the moment Isa’s looking at him, probably to prove a point. Which…makes no sense to him, honestly. He doesn’t turn his head, just raises an eyebrow. “The whole morning?”  
  
“Yeah,” Demyx enthuses, taking a huge chomp of his sandwich after unwrapping it. “You should’ve played with us,” he adds, in between chewing with his mouth open and swallowing. “We would’ve beaten them. Riku plays _dirty._ ”  
  
“Not really my scene,” Axel replies, because he wears _black_ , and he’d like to keep it that way. “Delicate ankles and all—might sprain one by accident with how you guys play. Maybe the movies? My treat.” He's not rich, but he's got a job, and he's kind of missed spoiling  _anyone_.  
  
The grin in Demyx’s voice is obvious. “Deal.”  
  
“Demyx,” Isa says, busying himself with cleaning up the counter. “Crumbs.”  
  
“But Axel’s eating without a plate!”  
  
“Axel is pitiable today,” Isa says blithely. “We must grant him allowances.”  
  
“Oh no,” Demyx says, wide-eyed, before Axel can even react. “You okay?”  
  
“I’m fine,” Axel says. He shoots Isa another dirty look, but Isa is now focused on wiping down the counter as though it doesn’t concern him. “Isa’s just—”  
  
“Don’t pin this on me,” Isa says.  
  
“What happened?” Demyx asks, completely lost.  
  
“I’m friend-divorcing your brother,” Axel says calmly. “Isa’s having trouble trying to think about what he wants more: you, or the house.”  
  
Isa whirls around, irritation settling on his brow. “Roxas’s recent texting and in-person behavior with Axel,” he says. “Discuss.”  
  
Axel is annoyed. “ _Really_ , Isa?” Reveal a guy’s concerns a bit less brutally, won’t you? It makes Axel sound like he’s a jilted lover, or something.  
  
“Oh,” Demyx says, blinking. “You’re jealous?”  
  
“Sorry?”  
  
“Oh,” Demyx says. “So you are.” He looks a bit chastened. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up—”  
  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Axel says, feeling slightly harassed and misunderstood. He runs a hand through his hair. 

“Oh, okay, so not jealousy. Um.” Demyx frowns. “Are you two fighting?”  
  
Honestly? What a mess. “Roxas and I are fine,” Axel reassures. “We’re still hanging out, you know. As you saw last Monday.” Of course, it doesn’t really explain a lot about how awkward Roxas has been acting lately.  
  
If he wanted space, Axel could’ve given it to him, but this entire song and dance is just uncalled for. It’s also just _why_ this is bothering him so much. Axel’s instincts are screaming about something and he has no idea what it is. He hates not knowing.  
  
“True,” Demyx answers at last, unconvinced.  
  
“Look,” Axel says carefully, because the _last_ thing he needs is someone else digging their nose into his business, especially assuming about something that’s not even there. “Demyx, honestly, I’m not bothered by the fact you guys had fun. You know I like my own time. It’s the same when it comes to my friends.”  
  
Demyx thinks about it. “That's true. And I can’t picture that,” he admits slowly. “You being jealous.”  
  
“Good to know,” Axel drawls, biting back only a bit of the sarcasm, and sighs. “It’s what I’ve been telling your brother.”  
  
“It’s just—” Demyx looks at his brother. “You’ve been coming over really often.”  
  
“More than usual,” Isa adds bluntly.  
  
“I can’t miss my family?” Axel asks breezily. “I did grow up more in your house than mine.”  
  
“You’re usually with Roxas,” Demyx says, which, okay. Point. “You sure it isn’t about him?”  
  
“It’s about him,” Isa says irritably. “I’m not your relationship guru, Lea.”  
  
Demyx grins. “Maybe you just looooove him?”  
  
Axel laughs. “Yeah, that’d explain quite a few things.”  
  
Wait a second.  
  
\--  
  
Shit.  
  
Well. Okay.  
  
\--  
  
All right, so coming to the conclusion that he actually does like Roxas like that is something a bit unexpected, but then again it makes sense and he’s not quite sure why he hasn’t entertained that thought before.

Axel’s known for a long time that Roxas’s got him tied around his little finger—he’s always a call away, could be pretty much living in an entirely different state and he’s pretty sure he’d still come running when Roxas sends him a text out of nowhere asking if he’s free to hang out. It’s a thing.

He’s stewing two days after the realization when he’s at the twins’ house, waiting for Roxas.

“So,” Sora says helpfully, as Axel is running a hand through his hair. “When are you going to ask him out?”  
  
Axel freezes. Slowly, he casts a glance at him through the gap. “Excuse me?”  
  
“Ask him out,” Sora repeats patiently.  
  
“That obvious?” he asks, because there’s really no real point in jazzing it up for Sora. The kid’s like Axel when it comes to noticing things; though people don’t give him as much credit for it. Sora doesn’t take advantage of it, which is more than Axel can say about himself.  
  
True to form, Sora says, “Well, yeah,” and then just waits.  
  
“I’m not really planning on doing anything.” Does Axel even have a plan? Hell, he's still just absorbing it. Him and Roxas.

 “Oh,” Sora says, understandingly. “Timing?”  
  
“Well, you know me,” Axel says. “I like to be a little less obvious about things.”  
  
“Roxas has been acting a bit weird around you,” Sora says, as an observation, without really offering an explanation.  
  
“Yeah,” Axel agrees. “Any idea what it’s about? My deodorant flaking out? My BO?”  
  
“You actually willingly sweat?”  
  
“Hey, now.”

They bicker nonchalantly, a casual back and forth while Roxas is doing whatever it is he's doing. It's obvious that Sora's keeping him company for a reason, especially when Sora's phone vibrates constantly in his pocket, as much as it's obvious that Sora isn't offering all the answers. Probably figures it's Roxas's thing to tell.

"Popular, aren't you?" Axel says, after the vibrating gets so much that Sora has to actually physically take his phone out of his pocket and turn it off.

"Yeah," Sora says with a grin, looking fond. "Lots of good friends." He looks curious, then thoughtful. "How do you think it's going to change, you and Roxas?"

If it were anyone else, he'd make a joke. Out loud, he says, "I have absolutely no idea."

The whole liking doesn’t really change how Axel views Roxas, but it does offer some perspective about where he might want this to go. You can like someone without wanting in their pants, just as you can like someone for their company. But the concept of liking goes a bit beyond physical attraction: Axel wants to monopolize him in the moments they’ve got together, and he’s actually pretty sure that Roxas might be noticing.

It’d definitely explain a lot of Roxas’s actions, if Roxas wasn’t exactly comfortable with Axel’s interest.

"I'd say you're overthinking it," Sora says cheerfully, hitting at the core of it. "Just go with the flow. You're best friends--kind of attached at the hip. You already know each other at your worst."

"I’m ready!" Roxas appears, hastily dropping his phone into his pocket. He's definitely taken care to get ready. His hair is even more immaculate than usual, swept up in its direction of Defying Gravity. He's dressed in something a little less like meme--a pocket tee over dark jeans, hastily wrapping a patterned scarf around his neck.

"My, my, Roxas. You're certainly dressed to impress," Axel says slyly, sticking his own hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “What’s the big occasion?”

Roxas's face goes through a myriad of expressions. "Nothing," he says, eventually. Embarrassed.

Axel grins helplessly and shrugs. "Bit too much? Don't take me seriously."

"Right," Roxas says, and clears his throat. He puts on this smile that looks impossibly fake, really fake, in a way that makes Axel want to figure out what is going on, because honestly, the more Roxas seems keen to pretend that nothing is wrong, the more Axel is noticing that there is  _definitely_ something going on.

"Roxas, is something--"

“Right,” Roxas says, voice a little louder. “So movie.”  
  
“Movie,” Axel agrees, mind whirling.

\--

Axel’s pretty sure Roxas must’ve come to the same conclusion as Sora did--and isn't very comfortable with it. In all honesty, Axel has no idea how he's supposed to feel about that. It's alarming enough that two people have come to a conclusion about Axel's own love life before he even knew about this whole thing.

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal.

It isn’t.

\--

"I can't believe this," Axel crows, leaning against the side of Roxas's chair, ignoring the fact that Roxas has been doing nothing but fidget this entire movie. Doesn't like space films, Axel figures. "I called it.  _I called it._ "

"You didn't call anything," Roxas tells him, hushing him even as the dialogue continues on screen, but from the lighting cast, Axel can see his smile widen. 

"No, but, I  _called it_ ," Axel says. “I got it memorized.”

"You're not whispering anymore. You're also the worst person to watch a movie with."

"True." Axel leans in, attention half on the screen, half on Roxas. "I'm a Movie Whisperer. Hey. Don’t roll your eyes.”

"I'm not," Roxas protests, but that's definitely a grin in his voice.

Axel reaches for the popcorn, only to brush his hand against Roxas's, which has already grabbed a fistful. Less than a second later, Roxas's hand jerks, and half the tub spills into the aisle. Axel looks down from the screen and reaches down to pick one off his shoe.

"Sorry," Roxas says stiffly, after a beat.

Axel shrugs, dunking it into the empty neighbouring cupholder. "Lucky it wasn't the drinks," he says conspiratorially, very purposefully not looking at Roxas right now, casual. "You want to go for a three second rule?"

Roxas doesn't answer. When Axel peeks over, he's staring purposefully at the screen. It's a bit too dark for the lighting to show his face, but Axel is willing to bet there's that same pinched expression as before, the one that shuts everything out.

Axel reaches into the tub of popcorn and pops a kernel into his mouth with a crunch.

By the time the movie's done, neither of them are talking. Roxas is already leaping to his feet, almost racing to the exit where he dumps his soda into the trash. Axel takes his time, wondering if he should bother with the spilled popcorn, before he follows suit.

It’s absolutely too serious for something so small. Axel’s starting to wonder how much this whole thing might be bothering Roxas. It’s definitely no skin off Axel’s back; he’s always rather liked Roxas, and he’s pretty sure whether or not he dates him, it wouldn’t make much of a difference except how other people see them.

They walk in silence from the theatre to the bus stop before Axel figures it’s best to tackle the elephant in the proverbial room before it’s too late.

"That was," Axel licks his lips, letting loose a sigh, "an experience."

Roxas doesn't answer, glaring stubbornly at the bus stop timings if how his jaw is clenched. His bangs are cast over his eyes and he looks absolutely miserable. Axel feels a bit sorry. No need to beat yourself up over spilling popcorn.

"Look, Roxas," Axel says, "all that in the theatre right? It's fine, you know?” No homo, he almost adds, but refrains.

Roxas's head shoots up to look at him. “Do you—”

Axel shrugs languidly. "We can pretend it didn't happen if you like? No big deal." He's trying to make it easier; see, you can brush this all under the carpet. “I mean, we can always pop more popcorn at home, right?”

Instead of relief on Roxas's face, there’s stiffness. "Oh. Sure."

Axel frowns. "Roxas?”

"I’m fine," Roxas snaps, which is the entire opposite of fine. He looks strung up and tense. Axel's not even sure if he even believes it himself. Either way, it looks like Roxas is done with this conversation, shoulders huddling up, and face dark.

It makes Axel kind of wonder, that despite all their friendship, the one thing the two of them really don’t excel at is sharing their thoughts. Well, Axel is definitely guiltier of that, but Roxas tends to keep his own locked down tighter than a safe when he thinks it’s his own thing to deal with.

Roxas notices he’s staring after a bit. “What?” he demands, if a bit defensively.

Axel hesitates, and then just settles for sliding his hands into his pockets. "Nothing. Forget it."

Roxas looks confused for a moment, and then nods. "Okay," he says, frowning, burrowing his chin into his scarf. Axel wants to ask him what he’s thinking, wishes he really had some form of way of getting into Roxas’s mind.

The bus arrives then, and that's the end of that.

\--

Here’s the thing: Axel really doesn’t need another person to live. And frankly speaking, even if he does like Roxas, he won’t die if his interest isn’t reciprocated. He’s made of sterner stuff than that, one that speaks more about independence and autonomy than it does the truth that Roxas means a lot more to Axel than anybody else he’s ever known.

There’s something special, you know? About Roxas. Axel treasures that, so if Roxas wants the distance? Roxas will get distance.

It’s a bit weird at first. Axel’s too used too spending time with Roxas that he’s suddenly not sure of what to do with this free time. He usually is the one who initiates the hangouts, but he’s admirably low-maintenance so they just always end up doing what Roxas wants to do. Now that he’s free, he ends up doing weird things, like cleaning his apartment, picking up the guitar again, and going to his coworkers’ flat for some heavy Guitar Hero action.

He also crashes over at Isa and Demyx’s a bit more often. Demyx has stopped asking about it, but he’s pretty sure the question still there, curiously blinking like a light bulb. He also takes to bothering Isa a lot more by text—something he’s pretty sure is ruining Isa’s pay-as-you-go phone plan.

 _What_ , Isa texts him back.

 _> 30_, Axel sends. _Send me a pic!_

 _No_ , Isa informs him, and then in all utter irony, sends him a picture of a bag of empty chips he no doubt found lying around somewhere in the house. Despite all of Isa’s best efforts to maintain a clean house, living with a younger brother definitely coloured his taste.

Axel laughs.

He doesn't stop being Roxas’s friend, obviously, which does mean he does hang out with Roxas on occasion. But he's definitely trying to be less touchy, definitely tries to send less mixed signals if he can help it. Polite, even. Keep hands to himself. It means all their interactions come out a little bit less giving on Axel's end, given that Axel's a natural with a flair for dramatics--half of why he's even in the drama club after all, never mind the fact that he gets to cut class during production times.

In all honesty, giving Roxas space is actually pretty hard. He misses him like crazy, despite all else.

\--

 “Is everything all right?” Sora starts asking. “I don’t see you much anymore.” Axel’s pretty sure he’s noticed the touch-exile, the self-censoring, but he doesn’t say anything about it, something Axel is ultimately grateful for.

“Lots to do, lots to see.” Axel shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “Making good use of my youth while it lasts.”

“Sounds like fun,” Roxas drawls, and he seems nothing but fine even with Axel not spending the majority of his time with him—which some part of Axel is pleased with at the same time that it makes him wonder what it _would_ be like, if Roxas missed him.

“You should come out for a game of street hockey, Axel,” Sora says, in an ever friendly attempt to merge his friend circles.

“I’ll pass, thanks,” Axel says, equally as cheerfully, and he knows that Sora knows that Axel really just doesn’t mingle with everyone. Less than laziness, more of the fact that it just takes too much energy and stretching yourself thin to navigate relationships younger than your own age group. Not exactly Axel’s idea of a fun time.

Roxas stabs his pencil in Sora’s direction—maybe a bit more viciously than Axel remembers he usually does. “Axel’s hanging out with me right now. And we’re doing math. So unless you want to do that too—”

Sora nopes out, albeit not without whining a little first. Roxas laughs, and Axel almost leans in to bump shoulders with him, to whisper something that’ll make him laugh even harder before remembering that he probably shouldn’t.

He’s too used to hanging around with an arm lazily around Roxas's shoulders, or how frequently they’re used to just touching each other: hands on shoulders, or hands on faces. Stuff like Roxas drumming up a rhythm on Axel’s arm when he’s bored, or Axel tapping on Roxas’s ankle when he wants his attention. He has to actively think about dialing it back, think twice about how he speaks.

Roxas is staring at him with an expression that Axel can’t read.

“What’s up?”

The question startles him. “Nothing,” Roxas scowls, and then thrusts his textbook at him, but there’s a frown on his face. “Just. Help me with this one.”

They work on math for the better of an hour, Axel pointing out steps, while Roxas asks about the specifics X-Y-Z.

Axel’s phone starts beeping.

“Gotta jet,” Axel says, turning off the alarm.

“What?” Roxas asks, confused, looking at his own phone. “That was barely an hour?”

“Yeah,” Axel says, half-mock cringing, half shrugging. “Gotta make dinner and all.”

“But we—” Roxas snaps his mouth shut. He looks frustrated (he’s got a right to be, considering this is the exact same thing that’s been happening the rare time Axel comes over), which is certainly a bit better than him ignoring Axel, even if some part of Axel really doesn’t know if this is better or worse. “You could stay? For dinner. I mean, Cloud likes you.”

It’s true that the blonder of Roxas’s two dads likes him, even if the other one still demands they keep the door to the twins’ bedroom open so that no “edgy” stuff happens, despite the fact that Axel has been going on the annual family camping trips for about four years now.

“Sorry, eating dinner with Isa,” Axel says cheerfully, and he tries not to take it too personally when Roxas just stares at him, lips drawn into a thin line. Roxas doesn’t get along well with Isa as a rule, and vice versa. “Invite me next time?” How many times has this been, that Axel has said that exact same thing?

As if he can sense it, Roxas looks furious.

“You know what,” Roxas says, pushing himself up from the table. He grabs his bag from the ground, shrugging the straps over his shoulders. “I’m headed to the skatepark.” There’s a tightness in his voice that makes Axel pause. “Bye.” 

 “Roxas isn’t too happy, you know,” Sora says, from where he’s sitting on the front porch when Axel leaves the house. He likely saw Roxas storming off.

 _I have no idea what I’m doing_ , Axel wants to say, because this is the farthest from what he intended when he decided he’d save Roxas the pain of ambiguous homoeroticism and closeness when he clearly wasn’t comfortable.

He says, “Huh.”

\--

“You are here _again_ ,” Isa says flatly, when he walks into his house to find Axel sprawled on the couch. “And everything is off-centered in the living room.”  
  
“I find it very telling that you haven't changed the locks yet," Axel says, still knee-deep in thought. He tries to picture himself in Roxas's shoes, and wonders. "Just wondering a bit about myself.”

Isa casts a glance around the room before he lets out a long-suffering sigh and gets to work straightening everything back to normal.

“Isa,” he says carefully, because it’s always nice to have a bouncing board that isn’t your own head, “am I a fuckboy?”

If it wasn’t possible, Isa’s face changes completely from done to even doner. He looks like a man half-resigned to his fate, and half-determined to go down with some form of dignity. “What," he says.

"Fuckboy. Am I a fuckboy?"

"Why would I be telling you this?”

“No, I mean, do I act like a fuckboy?”

"Do I look like I would know?"

" _Isa_ ," Axel says, exasperated. "I'm talking about what fuckboys tend to do."

“What you do behind your doors is your own business.”

 _"No_ , Isa. Fuckboy. You know, fuckboy?”

"No," Isa says, very heavily, wearing the least impressed face Axel has ever seen. "I don't. And I don’t know what on earth is going on between you and Roxas, but it has certainly been going on long enough. You need either end this, or make a decision.”

“I did,” Axel says defensively, and he’s really lucky it’s Isa, so he isn’t barraged with a ‘how’. Isa’s concerns are always on results. “Why do you keep saying I need to talk to him?”

Isa just looks at him.

“Okay, fine.”

\--

It’s Roxas who seeks him out first, while Axel’s still in the middle of debating how he’s going to bring this up. Axel, in some part, tends to avoid confrontations because they really make for messy scenes. But Roxas storms up to him, face a mixture of frustration and anger in the middle of the hallways enough that the students around them fan out.

Axel allows some semblance of alarm to fill him. "Everything all right?”

Roxas looks legitimately upset. "Why are you avoiding me?"

"I--" Axel's eyebrows furrow. Avoiding? A glance around them tells him that there are people that are just slowing down watching, which. Yeah, no. "You know what, let's not do this here." At that, Roxas's face looks even more pinched. "No, not like that. Come on, drama room."

After a moment, Roxas nods.

They slip back into the classroom that Axel had last period. The drama room's not really a room; it's more of a mini-auditorium, with a large makeshift stage and an amazing lack of desks, but not without space for chairs. Nobody's in there, which is good; Axel turns on the  _OCCUPIED_  neon light that's attached to the doorway (it probably defies about some many kinds of regulations), and closes the door behind him.

When he turns around, Roxas is pacing, fuming.

"Sorry," Axel says. "So run by the avoiding thing by me again?"

Roxas glares. "If you don't want to be my friend," he says, in a way that sounds practiced. His arms are folded. He looks unhappy, like he's dug himself into a hole. Which, what?

"When did I say I wanted to stop being your friend?"

"You don't text me, you don't want to hang out anymore?" Roxas insists, looking the same way he did when he stormed out on Axel. “You’re always busy.”

Axel pauses. “Wait, I thought you wanted this distance stuff. You know, the fuckboys call it quote unquote no homo. I figured you weren't into that, so--"

Roxas gives him a look. “What?” he demands. “ _No_ , of—not, definitely not!” He’s stressing the words as if he’s actually missed Axel. Which. “I thought _you_ were putting some distance between us! Because of the—well, you know—“ He looks pained, but also embarrassed. “No homo."

Axel blinks. He drags a heavy a hand over his face. “Wait,” he says, “I’m getting _really_ confused about this no homo thing, because you know, I actually like you. I was only mocking the fuckboys.” Which hopefully he is not.

God, was this whole entire thing because they _both_ thought the other person was going ‘no homo’?

"If _you're_ confused, then there's no way I'm understanding it," Roxas replies, but he looks less wound up enough that Axel settles beside him where he's sat down cross-legged on the carpet. "I just--I thought,” he says, and trails off. “I don’t know what I thought,” he tells his shoes.

“Care to share your thoughts right now?” Axel asks, gingerly.

Roxas tugs at his wristband. “I thought you didn’t want to be in my life anymore,” he admits.

“That is _definitely_ not the case,” Axel says, because out of Roxas’s life? No way. In a way, he’s glad they’re doing this conversation in the drama room, and not out in the hallway. “Look, Roxas, just.” He tries to figure out a way to say this. “I like you. You get that, right?”

Roxas’s eyes flicker up slowly.

“I like you,” Axel repeats, because he’s pretty sure that’s what counts right now. Of course, this whole thing is a bit too serious, so he shrugs a bit, offers a small grin. “If that isn’t, y’know, too homo for you.”

Roxas looks even more embarrassed. “Well, I.” He forces himself to keep looking Axel in the eye. “You too. From me. If that isn’t too homo for you too either.”

“How homo?” Axel asks.

Roxas makes a face. “I don’t know. Much homo. Many homo.”

"Well, I'm saying 'no homo', but I'm 'yes homo', only 'if you're okay with it homo'. Kind of homo.” Axel studies him, and then grins. “You feel me?”

For a moment, Roxas looks unsure.

Then: “Guess so,” he says, and after a moment, offers him one pretty big smile.

\--

_End._

_BONUS:_

A week later, they’re back at the skatepark.

“We’re dating,” Axel tells the little girl at the skatepark, who squints up at him as he casually watches Roxas pull one of those Heelflips.

“Good,” she tells him, licking the Sea-Salt ice cream he may or may not have bribed her with to win her approval.


End file.
